


You Have a Week to Learn

by killavampire



Series: Ashes to Ashes- Demonic AU [1]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Supernatural AU - Freeform, bruh moment im not using capitals in the tags and that's a lot of people, but they cool, demons and stuff because im edgy boi, i know how to tag things very well, just supernatural powers, not like the TV show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killavampire/pseuds/killavampire
Summary: The world seems divided between humans and humanoids. Harsh labels to entire populations that put a targets on innocent backs. Somehow the rift must be mended.
Relationships: could be cool for p l o t, maybe later idk how i feel about it
Series: Ashes to Ashes- Demonic AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786378
Comments: 5
Kudos: 63





	1. Can't Keep a Soul a Secret

“Hold!” Biffa shouted to the ragtag cavalcade of horses and riders behind him, careening them all to a stop in a small clearing in the deep woods. “This is a campsite if I’ve ever seen one.” the fiery red haired warrior smiled. They say that the glowing red of his hair could almost match the blaze of his bravery in battle. The other four horsemen surveyed the small clearing in the trees, double checking the safety of the location with the knowledge that all their opinions held equal under their commander. He was a fair leader.

“Looks good to me sir.” one of the horsemen chirped in.

“I trust your eagle eye False.” Biffa replied happily. Despite prejudices of society, she was both female and the most capable warrior of the group. Any foolhardy knight or pompous councilman that dare insinuate against her capabilities would quite quickly change their mind with some prompting by a blade against their neck.

The group hopped off their travel worn horses, loosening saddles and removing heavy packs before leading the sturdy creatures to the nearby stream from the beasts to take their fill of water.

“Firewood crew heading out!!” called the green clad warrior Iskall, heading into the underbrush of the forest followed by False and another of their group, Joe. Joe was much less built than his companions, matching the frame of a wayward librarian instead that of a classic soldier. Regardless, the trio head deeper into the forest in search of firewood to fend off the night.

“I’ll start setting up camp now sir.” Wels informed the leader. Wels was the most professionally dressed of the group and was second in command and to take the roll of leader if Biffa were to be incapacitated. He worn his blue feathered helmet with pride among the group that preferred not to have ten pounds of metal on their cranium.

“Come on now, we have been friends enough years for you to shake that ‘sir’ habit.” Biffa frowned.

“What would your father say to that?” the second in command asked with a questioning eye.

Biffa scoffed and brought his attention back fiddling with knots and leading the team of horses to a safer location away from the stream. “My father has enough sons to last himself a lifetime. He has no need to shove himself in the dwellings between me and my friends.”.

Wels considered the statement for a moment, “Okay Teahead.” he teased. That got the red haired leader to grin ear to ear.

“That’s more like it my friend! I’ll help you set up camp now as well.”. Biffa had calmed the loyal horses to the ground for them to get some well deserved sleep and joined Wels in smoothing rocks off the ground and propping up tents.

The group of five were known as The Terror. Perhaps not the most calamity envolcing name, but their job was to stop terrors from taking over the kingdom. Vampires, spirits and killers that lurked in murky shadows.Meanwhile the three soldiers combed through the thick underbrush of the forest collecting dry sticks and the occasional log to hull back to camp.

“Who’s there?” Joe shouted. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and the quickening of his heart. They had learned to recognize each other's movements, all his instincts told him that whoever was out there wasn’t a friend of his. Tentatively, he began to back out into the direction of the clearing, right hand travelling down to his dagger sheath on his hip and left hugging the firewood defensively. There was a rustle to his right, he threw his body to face that direction instantly, heart rate increasing yet surrounded by the dark unknown.

“Come out now!” he shouted at the bush, drawing a dagger. In response the reflection of eyes bore their way to him in a way that pierced his heart with fear. He had never seen any animal or humanoid creature with that size and shape of eyes before.

“Awww, didn’t expect us? I thought you knew all about the underworld.” a voice laughed through the darkness.

“Get back!” he yelled, heading back towards the camp for renforcement.

“Don’t worry I’m not here to hurt you.” the voice cooed. “But we will be watching.”. With a laugh the eyes disappeared into the night. Joe tried to pinpoint other unnatural noises, but the feeling of being watching had disappeared leaving paranoia in its place. After surveying the scene to no avail, Joe hurried back to the small clearing to bring the news.

“Hey Joe.” False smiled as he burst through the forest, then she caught sight of his adrenaline pumped eyes and her voice changed to that of concern, “What happened?”.

The group huddled around as Wels lit the fire, ready to hear Joe’s story. But instead of a poem or fantasy this would be a story of real life, the worst kind.

“I could feel something staring me down and footsteps circling around. I asked it to come out a couple of times, it didn’t but I could see it’s eyes reflecting white. It says it was from the underworld and that there are more things like it watching us. Then it just disappeared. I don’t know where it went. Didn’t seem like it was going to hurt me but it scared the living daylights outta me. Does anybody think they know what it is? I only have one idea and it’s not a good one.” Joe recited.

“Maybe it’s some sort of powerful warlock.” Iskall suggested. “That doesn’t explain why it says there are multiple watching us, but it might explain the eyes and perhaps the warlock specializes in earth magic.”

“That seems, mostly logical.” False commented. “No ideas here.”.

With a confused shrug from the other two, Joe told his theory. “In my reading, books sometimes mention creatures commonly called Spirit Reapers that watch the world to report back to hell with information. But other books say they don’t exisit and it’s all fantasy. Also, information on them gets muddled with information on spirits and theories on reapers. All descriptions of what they look and what they can do are different as well which doesn’t make it that plausible.”.

“At least that could explain the watching part.” Biffa noted. “Maybe hell wants to keep up with what we’re killing.”.

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Wels shivered.

“Either do I.” the leader replied. The group fell silent, staring into the small, yet expanding pool of flames that continued to shed light. Primal urge said to make the fire bigger. More light, more safety was the hope at least. And sometimes hope is all that you can grasp onto.

“Could I take the first shift.” Joe asked, breaking the silence. “Don’t think I can fall asleep that fast anyways with all this adrenaline.”.

“That’s good with me Joe.” Wels replied. Wels was usually the one to take the first shift of the night, but he knew Joe needed it.

“Thank you very much Wels.” he smiled.

“Do you want to give us a poem for the night Joe.” Biffa asked wanting to bring a bit or normalite to the strange situation.

That made the other man light up, “Of course I do!” clearing his throat he recited one of his poems.

Some of the little boys pretend to be Achilles,

Dipped upside down by their mothers,

Screaming that they’re drowning,

In unheelthy invincibility.

While some of the little girls,

Can’t let go of being Elsa,

Closed off and locked away

From the terrors of friendship.

But all the children on the schoolyard,

Take turns being Spider-Man,

Amazing and sobbing

Over Uncle Ben on the sidewalk.

Surrounded by the other kids

Who pretend to capture the moment

On invisible phones

Not thinking to call for help.

⬽⌖⤘

“I scared one of them.” Hypno pointed out. “That scraggly librarian looking dude! And he told them about us, so that part of the plan is aced!”.

“That’s definitely one way to say we’re around.” Xisuma grumbled. The two men were in the same forest as The Terror, but miles away casually leaning against the great dark oaks of the forest. Xisuma wore a hazy purple illusion around his head as he usually had. A simple magic spell that made the facial features visible enough to be recognizably a face, but no more than that. Hypno wore his favourite cap that he stole from a cocktoothed newspaper boy so long ago.

“But did you stick around to hear the rest?”. X asked.

Hypno paused, noticing the flaw in his plan. “No.”. The haphazardly thrown together plan was to 1. Let the people know of their existence 2. Hopefully help convince them not to kill everyone in sight 3. Be successful at number 2 even harder so they weren’t forced to kill the threats.

“Well I did, and they seemed thoroughly spooked. When they’re spooked they stab. Which isn’t great.”.

“Oh. Well how else could we have told them we exist?”. Hypno asked.

“A conversation.”

“Like that would ever work. Like you said, they get spooked, they stab.”.

Xisuma shuffled around, “Well I’ll give it my shot then. We need to get them to understand they need to stop killing everyone somehow.”. And with that he fazed out into the shadows, becoming one with the air and gone with the wind.

Hypno smiled, “And he says he doesn’t have even a small flair for the dramatic.”.

Xisuma rematerialized in his house of the small town his human persona called home. The moon cast it’s blue toned glow down onto the trodden dirt pathways separating house and shops contrasted by the warm flickering light of candles through drawn curtains. There was no other movement to disturb the nightly ritual of wind and animal as small nocturnal creatures scurried through the shadows and swooped overhead. He downed the purple haze that hid his face in replacement of a more human like appearance. Soft and hazel doe eyes, brown locks and a kind smile. Nobody would expect Spirit Reaper from that appearance he hoped. So in the center of the unsuspecting town, he lay down to sleep.

⬽⌖⤘

“Tango! No gymnastics on the railings!” Bdubs yelled at the spindly young vampire tightrope walking two stories in the air.

“And are you gonna stop me?” Tango teased, balancing on one foot.

“No!” Bdubs yelled at the fiery haired blonde. “But he is, get him xB!”.

“I’d rather not.” the third vamp replied, opting to lean a bit of his weight against the railing. “He’s all woozy on fresh blood again. We shouldn’t have let him go so long without feeding.”.

“But what if he falls?” Bdubs said antstly.

“Uh, then he’ll suffer the consequences. Or turn into a bat. Either work.”. xB stated unworried leaving the procession to return back to his quarters. Tango was now having fun hanging by his legs, arms dangling down downward reaching towards the steep drop.

“I’m not worried about _him_ I’m worried about the floor!”

“Oooo spooky scary! I’m vampire!” Tango giggled like a sugar high five year old, “I will suck your bloooddd!” he yelled before throwing himself upwards in a front flip and landing back on the opposite side of the railing with the loud thunk of boots hitting ground.

“Hey! Use that strength to save the floorboards instead of your dumba-” Bdubs continued yelling as the doorway to the basement opened up.

“What is this ruckus all about?” chimed in a fourth voice from the basement door, another vampire, this time with pitch black hair entered into the main area confused.

“Thank goodness, Mumbo!” Bdubs sighed, “You’ve got to stop that man, he’ll break this entire mansion down!”.

“Huh? Ow my eyes! Why does his hair get so bright after feeding?” Mumbo complained.

“I don’t know.” Tango replied, nonchalantly hopping back onto the railing.

“Well I think I’ve made a new discovery.” Mumbo announced to them.

“New discovery! Me me me! I wanna know!” Tango yelped, jumping up and off the railing, turning into a bat halfway and popping back into vampire form in front of the entrance to the basement.

Mumbo lit up with excitement and launched into explanation, “So you know that weird humanoid we found in the woods that’s untrackable? Well I found out a way to track it!.”

“Oooo!” Tango smiled excited, hopping down the unlit stairwell causing the wood to creak in protest while following Mumbo down to their laboratory. Jumping down the final stair, Tango spun on his heels to face the cluttered stonebrick room. Papers and notes were pinned to walls and vials of blood perched in the middle of the table, surrounded by a mess of notes. Chests were left ajar, practically spilling with disorganized contents.

“You gotta make a mess of this place each time do ya?” Tango sighed.

“Hey! It’s for science! And I’ll clean it up later okay? Just come over here to the vials.” Mumbo explained, shoving the complaints to the side and bring up the vial in the middle labeled v70% u30%. Tango could recognize the scent of vampire blood, but it was mixed with something else similar to the putrid scent of raw meat left out in the summer sun.

“I collected the humanoid’s blood from where we found it in the woods. The one we couldn’t track before. They must have been injured, because they practically left a trail of the stuff until it ended of course. By mixing it with the correct ratio of vampire to ‘unknown’ blood and drinking it you can sense it’s scent trail! Isn’t that great!” Mumbo rambled on.

“You drank that stuff?” Tango gawked.

“Yes and you will too!” Mumbo replied.

“As if! That smells like dog breathe and dog poop wrapped in one convenient vial of death!”

“You want to find out what they don’t you?” Mumbo hinted, knowing to poking the Tangos weak spot. Curiosity.

The blonde glared at the grinning scientist and snatched the putride scented vial. “Fine. But let’s tell the others where we are going first.”. Mumbo nodded and carefully picked up the concoction of blood, not trusting the other with who was in a far too jumpy attitude.

“Hey Bdubs! We are going to go use Mumbos invention and track down this humanoid thing.” Tango said, bounding up the stairs two at a time.

“Humanoid thing?? Use your vocabulary Tango.” Bdubs sighed, cleaning the dust off ledges and counters. He may not get his nose bothered by dust anymore, but he still loved the simplicity of taking care of a home.

“I would but neither of us had ever seen anything like it before. We couldn’t sense it’s blood trail!”. With that Bdubs froze in his wiping, eyebrows scrunched together as he considered that new information.

_“Why would he be awake?”_

“Are you sure?” Bdubs asked slowly, putting down the rag and making sure he had jumpy vampires full attention.

“Positive.” Mumbo answered, emerging once more from the basement doorway. “But drinking this ratio of it’s blood to vampire blood, you can sense it’s scent trail. I’ve tested it already and wanna meet whomever that is.”.

“I going to go with you.” Bdubs announced with a swish of brown hair, he tied up the signature red bandana and stared confidently at the others. A chorus of huhs followed that statement, xB peeking out of his quarters in joint confusion. Bdubs hadn’t left the mansion in what had to be at least a hundred years, not even to feed. He instead suckled on stale blood soaked fabrics and leather flavored blood from water satchels.

“If that is who I think it is. I wanna have a talk with ‘em.” he spoke confidently.

Mumbo shook his head, clearing the bewilderment from his mind. “I suppose we should get going then. You xB?”.

The other shook his head, “Someone has to stay and guard this place. Not really, but I will. You guys have fun with that I guess.”.

Mumbo shrugged and uncorked the vial, letting the terrible smell waft through the room. “Just take a sip of this and it will work it’s magic.” Mumbo explained. He gave his own concoction a questioning look before flicking his head and hand back for a small sip. Although he had tested this many times before, the favour never failed to disgust him, although preparation for the foul liquid did make it better. He shoved the vial into Tango’s hands before semi-consciously whipping his head side to side to try and rid himself of the foul taste.

“You have a go.” Mumbo gasped, giving a devious smile at his friend.

“Oh, I can already feel the regret.” Tango sighed before taking a sip himself. Unprepared for the taste like Mumbo was, it was multiple times worse. As soon as the liquid touched his mouth seemed to almost tingle in warning. As it touched his throat, his throat began to seize up, but he forced the liquid down. Feeling it in his chest, he thought the pain was over. It was not. His throat began to seize up even tighter, it hurt. He quickly began to panic as it only got even worse, as he felt the entirety of his throat burn not letting anything in and out, and he began to think, oh gosh what if I’m stuck like this. It would be so much worse if he still had to breathe. A slight pressure built up behind his eyes while he squeezed them shut to try and stop the panic. Luckily it did get better. The tightening finally started to let itself coil down, like a boa constrictor satisfied that it’s prey was dead and the burning began to dissipate. Relief sprung up as the pain lessened.

“So much regret, why Mumbo.” Tango groaned, eye twitching a bit as air touched his sore throat.

“I forgot to mention, it’s the worst the first time.”.

Bdubs drank down a sip of the liquid in much the same manner as Tango. Once he collected his cool, the trio headed over to the front door. Mumbo and Tango simply walked through the grand frame onto the path made of rocks collected from the forest and pressed into the mud over the centuries. Bdubs stared down at that familiar path. The one he helped build so long ago, and put down his foot.

 _”Casual.”_ He smiled to himself. _A hundred years of hiding going bye bye. This better be worth it._

⬽⌖⤘

The Terror rounded their way down the familiar town road. Some people met their presence with a smile and a wave while others looked up and quickly avoided eye contact out of fear. As they rounded the corner to their home, the horses began to happy wiggle and snort knowing that they had their own little luxuries out back to rest in the sun.

False laughed as her horse began to swing it’s head around a bit too crazy and do what could only be called a horse happy dance. “Easy, easy fella!”.

They all travelled around the back, Joe jumping off to open the fence and let everyone in. Horses were unpacked and unbridaled. Manes were combed, horseshoes were checked and happy laughter filled the air as the horses enjoyed their return to freedom from the saddle along with good food.

Once the animals were all settled down and contained, Iskall, False, Wels and Joe decided to head out back into the forest to do a bit of hunting. Maybe catch a rabbit or bird for a nice home cooked dinner. Biffa opted out as usual. Not that he didn’t enjoy hunting for his own food, but he had to follow his ritual and get himself a cup of hot tea.

He walked over to the front of the house to head inside since the backdoor was still locked, when he saw someone walking over from across the rotten dirt road. Biffa grinned at the familiar face making it’s way down to their home.

“Hello Biffa!” the peppy hazel eyed man called out carrying a bucket of water.

“Hello Suma!” Biffa replied, reaching out to embrace his friend. Ever since Biffa had picked this town to be The Terror’s base of operations all those months ago, Suma had made himself friendly and open to the group. Him and Biffa became close friends during that time, and never tried to make them change their particularly bloody line of work, although he definitely didn’t approve of it and spoke against such killings many times.

“Why don’t we head inside, so much to chat about and so much tea to drink!” Biffa chuckled.

“Okay.” the other smiled, “Lead the way.”.

Biffa unlocked the door, letting in the sunlight as he made a welcoming gesture to the other, who closed the door behind him. The main area was humble and cosy, with a fireplace for cooking to the left of the door and storage all around. Storage for weapons and armor sitting next to storage for pots and the kettle.

“I went out to the well when I saw you guys heading down the street.” Suma smiled.

“What a gentleman!” Biffa grinned as they poured the water into the kettle and placed it in the fireplace and began to start the fire.

Suma or Xisuma, not that Biffa knew his real name, stared into the fire. It crackled and popped with embers searching to fly from their glowing hot home only to find it caused their death. Xisuma wriggled on his chair and tried to prepare himself for the conversation about his, inhuman-ness. He knew that this could be the last time he ever got to have a peaceful conversation with his friend. And he didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.

Still staring into the embers he asked, “Why did you choose to live so humbly? Your father is the King, yet you choose hay beds and a simple brick fireplace over all the grandeurs.”. He glanced over to look to gauge the others' reaction.

Biffa’s shoulders had tensed up as he too staring into the embers, “I know I technically am a prince, but I don’t like being referred to as one. Not in the slightest really.”.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”.

“No it’s okay.” Biffa smiled, “I know you had no ill intent with it.” He stared down at his hands, debating whether he should continue or not before deciding to.

“I’m kid eleven out of fourteen, no chance at the throne and pretty much left to my own devices after some classes in manners. I wanted to make something of myself and trained with the royal guard quite often. That’s how I met Wels and became friends with him. Wels may be a stickler for formalities, but he treated me like a human. It was amazing to be treated that way instead of how people automatically treat me. Like I’m some sort of symbol of status or position rather than a living thing. I always heard of our people being killed by supernatural attacks and wanted to do something about it. Let people get a chance to live and their families to know it won’t happen again. So I formed The Terror. I didn’t want the towns we joined to feel like they were being taken under military control so the simple living. It also helps me feel more connected to the world instead of in the gradures and formalities of a castle.”.

“That’s nice.” X smiled. “How you're born shouldn’t be the reason for how you’re treated. Maybe you should be King, you have the interest of the people in your heart which is more than many people throughout history have.”.

“I’m glad you understand. But I would never want to be King. Even if having the interest of the people at my heart, there are political requirements and sacrifices. Giving up those would make us open to war and myself to assasination by rivals who don’t want the people getting any more than they have. I think I can help more on the front lines rather than up on that parade float.”.

“Wow, that’s definitely a reason not to get caught up in the political world. That sounds, soul twisting.”.

Biffa laughed softly, “Yeah politicians have to smile while eating shit then serve up shit themselves. I don’t envy the life.”

“Putting the King in a beautiful spotlight huh?” X laughed.

“Well don’t tell him I said that and we will all be fine.” Biffa laughed in return. Then he used the metal pincer looking thingys to pick up the hot metal kettle then used a piece of cloth folded multiple times over to pick up the handle and pour the boiling water into the two cups.

“Let’s head over to my room. I want to lay down a bit while the tea seeps and it’s much cosier in a smaller area don’t you think?”

“Sounds fine by me.” X smiled back, picking up his ceramic cup and heading up the flight of stairs to the bedroom half of the building. It was a familiar walk, he recognized the nooks in the wooden stairs and the chipped bit where apparently a sleep deprived Iskall swung his sword at an unsuspecting ninja mouse. Biffa’s was the first door up the flight of stairs. The room was well lit by an open window facing the street letting in the warm glowing light of the evening sun. It’s sparkled with gold across wooden floorboards. The bed was made of some hay bales wrapped up in fabric, It sported similar hay and fabric pillows and along with a blanket. There was a small wooden board that looked like a chopping board with tiny legs on the bottom sitting on the left bottom corner of bed. The cup holder board and letter writing board. Biffa placed his ceramic cup down on the bedside table right side of the room before stretching his arms and rolling onto bed next to it.

Stretching his arms and legs around he smiled, “Oh it’s so nice to lay down and not have the ground covered in rocks! I swear no matter how hard you try the rocks are always there.”

“Sounds painful.” X replied.

“It is, especially when one sits itself down perfectly to make it feel like you’re growing an extra tailbone.”.

X placed his cup down on the wooden board and sat on the left foot of the bed near the window away from where Biffa was sprawled.

“I don’t mind if you lay down with me. It’s very comfortable.” Biffa offered.

X smiled. It would be nice he thought, but all he could think about was what the red haired man's reaction would be when he learned X wasn’t human. He could only assume the worst case scenarios would become worse if he were to accept the offer.

“No, I’m okay.”

“Suit yourself.” Biffa replied arching his back and stretching around some more.

X couldn’t help but admire how Biffa’s hair reflected the sunlight, his entire head seemed to glow with colour. In all his years on this earth, Xisuma didn’t think he had ever seen anybody's lockes quite like it. Soft waves that contrasted their unapologetic glowing red vibrance. The way the ends curled around the edges of his face made his smile pop out even more. X fell into a daydream, wishing he could lay there with him without a care in the world. Where he could run his fingers through the soft curls until he fell asleep. To listen to every story Biffa had until he had every last detail committed to memory. In a perfect world where love could be free and life could simply be lived. But this wasn’t a perfect world. And no matter how hard he tried, X feared that today he would watch the others heart break. But what other choice did he have? It was his job to try and keep the peace, and The Terror could claim too many innocent lives. There was no way around it, they had to change their ways or they would have to die for the crimes. Xisuma's heart shattered a little thinking about it. But he was a leader, and he had to eat that plate full of shit or have it shoved down his throat in the promise of greater good. So he clenched the note in his hand and placed it under his teacup. No matter how much he hated it the time had come.

“Uh, Biffa. I have to tell you something.”.

“What is it?”. The tone was innocent and unsuspecting. Each second that passed was like a hammer hitting a chisel ready to shatter his stone strong heart.

“You’ve heard about Spirit Reapers right?”

“Yeah sorta. Joe mentioned them last night. Nobody really knows if they’re real from what I know. What about them.”.

“I’m one of them.”. Clink goes the hammer. Biffa froze and sat upright.

“What do you mean? Is that just a joke?” his tone was baffled, confused with hints of betrayal and fear.

“I wish it was. I’ve been sent to investigate and stop the disproportionately high amount of vampire and warlock deaths over the past year or so.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never would have heard me out if you thought I wasn’t human and I wanted to show you that we are all more than the crimes of a couple of us. Almost all vampire attacks were the result of a mind altering virus and that virus has been eradicated now.”.

Betrayal flashed through Biffa's eyes. He was vulnerable and heartbroken, but he covered it up with a facade of anger. Xisuma knew that anger was no more real than the purple haze he covered his face with.

“You’re not joking. I trusted you.” the words were filled with anguish and betrayal and laced with venom. Biffa stood up and towered over X from the other side of the bed. The divide between their worlds. X knew the louder those words became the less true they would become. “I trusted you and you're a monster.” he spat out. Despite how prepared Xisuma was for this confrontation, the words still stung like a slap across the face. Biffa stood up and got against the wall as far as the person he once called a friend as he could. “Show me your face.”.

“Huh?”

“Your real face and not whatever mask your wearing.”.

Xisuma gulped, he hadn’t expected that. Nobody had seen his face since the incident a millenia ago. “I’m sorry but I can’t.”

“Why?”

“It's been a thousand years, I just can’t.”.

“I trusted you and you're a monster.” His voice grew louder. “You can’t even trust me with what you look like. Have you even told be a real story before? What’s your real job here you liar!”.

Xisuma stood up as well, staying on the opposite side of the room. “The stories I told were true. Altered to sound human, but it was all me. Ever word was me.” he spoke quietly and determined. “It’s my job to bring the killing to a normal by whatever means possible. But I like you people. I wanted to befriend you and I hoped that this friendship could help show you that killing people who are different isn’t the right way to go.”.

Biffa glared. “Those things aren’t people. They’re monsters, criminals stealing human lives and living without consequences. I bet you’re just like the rest of them you liar. Tell me have you killed someone before.”.

Xisuma gulped again, “Yes, but let me explain-”

Biffa now had his hand on the hilt of the knife on his belt, “Your no better than the rest! You killer you liar! In fact you're worse! Invading my house, our trust, my trust!”

Clink goes the hammer. The words stung, they pierced the skin like cactus spikes shoved onto him, and despite his better judgement his voice raised a bit as well, “They were children Biffa! Warlock children! I would have done it any other way, but the man systematically killed children!”.

“And I bet you would kill me too huh? Leave! If you care like you say leave! I never want to see you again!”. Biffa spat out.

Xisuma felt the hammer break a piece of him inside. It had gone the worst it could possibly go. He backed towards the window on his side of the room. “His name was Markus Leopold, ask Joe about him. If you find you want to change your ways or give life a chance, meet me at The Temple of the Stone Guardian. Iskall knows what I mean. I’m so sorry, but I can only give you a week to meet me there.”.

Biffa glared at him, finality in his eyes, “Leave, and never come back.”.

X felt part of him deflate as the hammer clinked again. He glanced once more into his friend's eyes. The compassion that once filled them was replaced with venom, a strong and brutal shield. But if he looked close enough, he thought he could see a bit of regret of thoughts whirlwinding inside. If it was a trick of his imagination or not, he couldn’t tell. But he hoped that the young prince would come around.

“Please.”. He began to faze away once more to become one with the air, he saw true fear flash through his friends face as he disappeared from sight. But X couldn’t manage to make himself leave just yet. Although he knew it was creepy, and perhaps an invasion of privacy, he stayed in his invisible form in the corner of the room.

He watched silently as Biffa began to release all the tension in his shoulders and let down the defensive position. The red hair prince sat down on the hay bed, feet on the ground and elbows on his knees, back towards where X had disappeared. Then, he heard crying. Soft and muted at first, but they grew louder and less controlled. X could see his shoulders shaking with it by now.

Oh he felt terrible about this. What a friend he was. X’s mind wandered, questioning why Spirit Reapers had to be born like this. It seemed that each one of them were doomed to forever be lonely or at least huddle in each other's company. While he loved his fellow reaper friends, he knew all of them saw good souls they wanted to be around longer. It almost never worked out. He watched sadly, feeling empty and alone in the room. How he wanted to be able to give a comforting touch or a hug.

Eventually Biffa began to just sniffle and grap the wooden tray with X’s abandoned cup of tea. X watched his friend pick up the small note he let under the cup.

_Thank you for all the wonderful times._

He saw his friend break out into tears once more, balling the small bit of paper in his hand and raising it up to throw against the ground. X felt a bit of himself break just a little bit more at the motion. But Biffa’s arm shook, he slammed the crumbled letter against the bedside table and wrapped his arms around his torso. Despite himself, X felt a bit better that the note wasn’t thrown even if he knew it made his friend hurt more. He couldn’t bear to watch the procession anymore so slipped away to let Hypno take his place.

“So how’d it go?” Hypno spoke to the air. Responding to Xisuma’s mental message that he was nearby. The other Spirit Reaper materialized against the opposite tree. His demeanor was even more closed off which Hypno didn’t think was even possible and the purple haze even thicker than usual.

“Not how I would have hoped.” Xisuma spoke with a voice scarily emotionless that gave Hypno chills. “I think there is probably hope for the others, but there is the least hope of the red haired one, Biffa. I need a rest, could you take a bit more of my shift and pay off a bit of your time debt to me?”. Hypno looked at the man, seeing what others must think of them. He saw a heartless machine who would kill to maintain the balance without a blink of an eye.

“No problem.” Hypno responded, trying to match the same emotionless tone the other was using. Or at least hid his fear. But Xisuma could problem sense it, cheeky bastard. Hypno adjusted his hat and made himself begin to fade away as well, “Take care my dude?”. In ghosty form he began to move swiftly along to watch whatever The Terror were to do next. Even though he was out of hearing range, he knew Xisuma didn’t respond.

⬽⌖⤘

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Duchess_of_Dumpsters vampire AU cause her stuff big cool. The start sounds so rushed but im tired ahflka. Also… ya wanna know how I described drinking that blood concoction? A couple shots of distilled white vinegar. (done previously to this idea not for this idea). DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME ‘TIS DISGUSTING ON ALL LEVELS IF YOU WANT TO TRY AT HOME I WILL DESCRIBE IT TO YOU GRAPHICALLY. The name I chose for the child murder wasn’t just random. King Leopold II of Belgium is a disgusted excuse for a human. He owned The Congo and did things that are indescribable inhumane. I can’t put down all the terrible things he did in a quick sentence. I encourage you to research this if you can. (Wikipedia will do this ain’t WHAP no more) Also BLM. Humans deserve human rights and we have to stick together and fight for that. (sorry that was really long)


	2. Story Time with a Werewolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty hours, but that was pretty guessable with the series name I suppose :p

Tango, Mumbo and Bdubs sped across the forest floor, chasing the mysterious blood trail Mumbo’s concoction allowed them to sense. Tango and Mumbo made swift work in their steps, avoiding sticks and twigs to be nearly as silent as ghosts. Bdubs on the other hand hadn’t stepped foot out of the mansion in so long, the pair might as well be dragging an anvil across the ground.

“We are supposed to avoid the sticks, not break them all!” Tango whispered to the frustrated vamp.

“Give an old man a break!” Bdubs shot back. “You lot are always calling my oldy anyways, could I at least get the respect side of that coin?”.

“I hope whoever we’re following doesn’t get scared off easily.” Mumbo worried.

“Don’t sweat it.” Bdubs reassured him. “Well, at least if it is who I think it is we have nothing to worry about.”.

“Why don’t you tell us your hypothesis. This is science anyways.” Tango asked, curious why Bdubs wanted to see this mysterious person bad enough to finally leave his precious mansion.

“If it isn’t who I think I’ll tell ya later. If it is who I think, he loves to tell a good story.”. Bdubs grinned.

“Excuses, excuses!” Tango rolled his eyes.

The scent led deeper and deeper into the Great Woods. The trees piled on the age with each step. Deep green moss clung to dead twigs that littered the floor, undisturbed by any human and left to decompose back to the ground. It seemed that no human or humanoid had been there in hundreds of years, although they were following one through there right now. There was no pathway through the woods to follow but the blood trail, and the group would be thoroughly lost if they couldn’t follow their own scent markers back home.

Then Tango and Mumbo stopped. There was a thick layer of moss and vines blocking all view forwards past it’s canopy and they were tentative to bust through somewhere they couldn’t check for safety first.

“How does something even grow like this?” Mumbo asked his friend.

“I don’t know. But I don’t think I would have even noticed it if we didn’t need to go directly through it.” Tango replied equally confused.

“Things don’t grow like that ya knucklehead, they were placed so people wouldn’t see this place.” Bdubs replied unfazed.

“Huh, that’s clever. Have you been here before to know that?” Mumbo asked.

“Yes yes, step aside step aside.” Bdubs replied. He walked forwards confidently and nonchalantly pushed back the thick layer of vines to reveal a clearing in the trees. Patchwork sunlight hit the rich green grass below. Leaves floated suspended in the air far above creating the illusion of tree cover, but letting in even more sun than the usual tree tops did. There was a small house in the middle of the clearing surrounded by various other buildings. Each filled to the brim with small mechanical details and even garden beds. It seemed like a small slice of heaven placed on earth.

Bdubs waltzed up the dirt and stone pathway that led up to the main building unafraid to hollar “What under Death’s blessed name have you done now Etho?”.

Tango and Mumbo stared in shock at both the beauty of the place and Bdubs confidence hollering. Neither had ever seen the older vampire like that before. He was always stayed unassuming in the shadows of the world in the time they’ve met him. Waltzing across the clearing they saw a living myth.

A silver haired man peaked out through the doorway. Hair halfway held out of his face with a black headband and matching black mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore a vest that had enough pockets to carry seemingly anything you could need. He looked almost completely human, except for the glowing red scar slashed through his right eye. Iris glowing red and swirling with magic. A warlock. And not just any warlock, the infamous warlock that made his way into bedtime stories mothers would tell their children at night to warn them about the dangers of the dark.

“Hey Bdubs! Long time no see.” Etho smiled, “Glad you have bring a friend permissions or those two would be toast.”.

“How long’s it been? A few centuries ago when ya told me? My memory isn’t that bad.” Bdubs grinned. “For important things at least. Now tell me what’s got the dead wandering back to see you.”.

“Oh he can introduce himself.”. Behind Etho a large figure loomed in the doorway and stepped into the light. He was tall as hell and had green skin along with mechanical limbs.

“Hello visitors. My name is Doc.”.

Even Bdubs was taken aback at that revelation as Tango and Mumbo descended further into shock.

Bdubs blinked, “How do you always manage to confuse me.”.

Doc was what majority of the supernatural world lovingly called creepies. They were bug-like creatures that had an intelligence and thought pattern similar to that of an ant. They had colonies to live in and provide for. Emotionless and instead followed purely instinct on what to do from processing their surroundings. Most of the time it seemed as if part of that instinct was to always find the worst time to crawl up into your business. There were some that simply attacked you, some that covered everything in a layer of sticky slime, some that loved to chew off bits of stone and rock and some that would combust themselves and destroy their surroundings in the process. One thing was for sure, in the wild they did not appear human in any shape or form nor could they talk.

“I had been experimenting with bringing things back from the brink of death. I’d already tested it with plants, insects and even a small animal or two. I thought a logical next step up would be a creepy, since they didn’t seem all that complicated really.” Etho explained. “Doc here was one of the exploding types and was barely alive after kamakazi-ing me. I was able to bring him back to life, but some limbs were beyond repair. Turns out creepsters have the intelligence and brain of a human locked away by some strange biological process their entire lives and instead perform their simple tasks.” Etho explained. “I think they were created by a demon. William if I had to guess. They are under an eternal curse from their moment of birth to death to serve a singular purpose for the colony’s need. My interference broke that cycle. I have a few guesses as to why, but I won’t bore you with them.”.

“I’m fine with that, it’s not like I understood any of that nonsense.”. Bdubs groaned.

“What the actual hell is going on.” Tango asked, jaw hanging. “That blood must have had some hallucinogens Mumbo, because I am currently standing in front of bedtime story, Bdubs is living up to his legacy for once and there is a human creepy.”.

“I’m starting to think maybe this batch had hidden drugs as well.” Mumbo responded equally if not more baffled.

“How much explaining do I have to do for you two?” Bdubs sighed.

“All of the explaining.” Tango responded quickly. “My brain hurts.”.

“Well Etho here, the infamous first warlock of the land and friend of me, second vampire of the land. What a title. Has discovered creepies have human brains and were probably created by some mischievous demons. Etho lives in his hidden meadow to keep out fools, but I got friendship privileges aka visiting rights.”. Bdubs explained. “I think at least.”.

“That’s pretty much correct.” Etho smiled. “I was actually preparing to summon up the demon William to ask him about it. You guys could have a bit of funsies and watch if you like.”.

“Ooo, magic show. It will be fun.” Bdubs smiled at the two vamps.

“As long as I can sit down.” Mumbo replied. “As Tango was saying, brain confused.”.

“Don’t worry I can confused you some more.” Etho grinned. “Join us in this house over here.”. The silver haired man waved them into the house he was just peeking out of. Doc and Bdubs followed close behind, with Mumbo and Tango speeding down the path to join them.

Inside was jam packed with barrels and chests filled with strange ingredients. A small libraries worth of journals lined one wall. Machines and tools where plastered onto every surface except for a giant clearing on the floor making room for a pentagram. Despite that fact, the entire area had a very comforting feel and the materials and tools seemed very organized even with the large quantity of them. Even though the two had never seen a place like it before, it gave off the comforting feeling of a safe home.

Doc and Bdubs were sat on a table parallel the summoning pentagram as Etho busied himself running around grabbing different materials and tools all over the kazoo. There was a third man sitting at the table who the two didn’t recognize. He had long, dark brown hair lazily tied into a ponytail. What they first thought was just really messy hair on the top of his head turned out to be ears. Large fur covered ears.

Bdubs grinned, “Have a seat boys, meet Ren the dog. “.

“Howdy partner! I’m your friendly neighborhood werewolf here to send information to the dead.” the fuzzy eared man grinned.

Bdubs continued, “And as I said he likes a good story. Etho’s probably gonna take a while so get comfortable and hang in for the ride.”.

Ren cocked his head to the side, “You guys don’t know about Death’s first son?”.

“Not in the slightest.”

That got the werewolf beaming, “Well then you two are in for a treat”

⬽⌖⤘

Death goes by many names. Satan, Evil, the Devil, King of the Underworld are all the same entity. The force to balance out God for the world. As God creates, Death takes so that life stays at a balance. Although it has gotten him a bad reputation among the humans, don’t be fooled; their existence is more essential to life than the creation of new.

One day countless years ago, Death wanted to create someone new. He had just created the first two Spirit Reapers to help him watch over the world and find what needs to be balanced out. He found joy in creation as if for the first time he had family. In his mind the next logical step would be to create a son with half blood between his own and human. The victim of this first attempt was a child less than one years old, Python. In a flick of the wrist, Death replaced half the child's blood with that of his own. It contained more power than a human body should have been able to handle all at once. It turned the child's skin molten red.

The poor parents met their demise only years later when what would have been a normal tantrum for a six year old let out shockwaves of deadly magic. A deep crimson red staining the child's mind forever.

The woods loomed dark and heavy, as if weighing down to show shame to the young boy who ran to find what he couldn’t replace. Stumbling and crying, Python eventually stopped in his tracks and laid under a bush. Due to the lack of planning, he had failed to bring any supplies whatsoever. The first of his kind, the guinea pig of what demonic magic could do. Under the cold unblinking stars, he had never felt so alone. Not when the other people stared at him and ushered their kids away, or when the toy stone would get abandoned when it got anywhere near him. Python always knew he was different, he didn’t look exactly normal and was treated far from it. Drenched in sorrow he didn’t notice the shadows closing in around him until the stars vanished all together.

Gulping back the tears, he sat up. The bush that offered him its protection vanishing into the darkness around him. He stared into the abyss wide eyed and more lost than ever. Was this hell? Did committing such a heinous act catch up to you that quickly? A silhouette emerged from the dark.

“Hello.” it called.

He could feel the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, nobody ever called to him. He responded hesitantly, “Hello?”.

The silhouette emerged from the darkness. A young teen boy showered in a pinkish red mist stepped forth. Behind him, a boy who looked similar, but instead with a purple much heavier mist that didn’t dissipate around his head. “We are here to help.”.

The words were kind, but his heart still pulled him down. “Help take me to hell for what I did. I’m never going to see my parents again.” he choked out.

The reddish aura stepped a bit closer, “No, not that. It wasn’t your fault what happened. It’s about time you learn who you are.”.

“Don’t lie to me. I’m a monster. I’m going away to hell.”.

Then a loud voice carried through the air. “You are born of magic blood with uncontrolled power through you.”.

The whirlwind of negative emotions now mixed in fear, “Who are you?”.

“I am The Dark, Evil, Satan or Death. Whatever name suits the ear. Balancing force of the universe. And you have half my blood.”.

Ice gripped the child's throat, “What do you mean?” He heard himself say. But his spirit had left his body. He could see a child kneeling on the ground, stained with dirt, tears and blood. He could hear the child scream so loud it was a surprise he wasn’t ripping up his own throat. The word no filled the air. Oh gosh that was himself. A mess and a wreak shivering on the cold ground.

“You contain magic on levels never seen before in a human. We are tied by blood to be family.” Death spoke to him.

The words settled in, deep and imposing. He was the son of Death.

“And thats where I come in!” Ren grinned.

Tango blinked, “I mean you didn’t have to stay that. I was getting really into the story.”.

“Doc! Why is this shovel now at a 90 degree angle?” shouted Etho, holding a very broken shovel.

“Stupid snails.” the cyborg groaned.

Etho looked at the shovel worried.

“Those poor snails!” Bdubs cried out. “What did they ever do to you?”.

“They ate my plants.” Doc replied coldly, staring down the vampire.

Bdubs seemed to get the message, settling down and out of the steely gaze. Etho is already leaving to gather more bits.

“Okay, I’ll continue in a more story like manner.” Ren said, tearing his eyes away from the sudden scene.

Death soon left the trio alone, lifting away the darkness that had seeped into the ground around them. Tentatively the one with red particles dropped all the particles away, leaving himself plain and visible. He only appeared to be 11 or 12 years old.

“Hello, I’m Xerial.” he spoke softly, reaching out his hand offering a handshake. “Me and my brother Xisuma are here to watch out for you. We were both created by Death as well. His first successful experiments into having the deceased help him. We aren’t terribly different in that regard.”. Python looked at the boy, and the brother behind him who had dropped his purple particles as well. Then he took the hand offered to him, gulping back sniffles he replied, “Thank you. My name is Python.”.

The three spent a month helping Python recuperate from the terrible events that had occured. During that time they grew close, but the two who grew closest were Python and Xerial. Xisuma helped in the ways he could, but just didn’t connect with Python as well as his brother had.

After a month had passed. They came to the decision that Python deserved to try and live a semi-normal life. To head to the closest village and find friends his own age to play with.

They settled on a town far enough away from Python's birth town so that they would never accidentally stumble upon it. Python claimed to be a part of a family that had recently moved in and chose to live in the woods in order to not have to hull logs far. He found a friend his same age quite fast. A young boy by the name of Ren whose family lives in the woods for log chopping as well although a respectable distance away so the ‘two’ businesses would never run into each other.

The two hit it off quite well and soon became as close as Xerial had to Python.

Sadly, after only a few more years tragedy struck. The normal life seemed to have been going fine, but when Python hit the age of thirteen, things began to go wrong. The rapidly shifting hormones that occur within humans during that time trigger off all seals on Pythons magic. And just as before, that magic demanded blood.

The first unfortunate victim was his best friend, Ren was first to die at his hand that day. He was killed by the sheer energy in the magic that surged out of his friend like a bomb. Then came anyone unfortunate enough to get in his line of sight. They dropped dead by his hand, unnaturally strong leaving bodies littering the streets.

Just as their duty called for, Xisuma and Xerial called upon Death to inform his of what was going on. This time Death was not happy. He believed that by sharing blood they would have the bond of a family. That is not how it works. He didn’t have a son, he had someone who shared blood. Someone who he spent no time with and left to the devices of others. And that person was running rampant.

Death was sentimental enough to not want to kill his first son and vanquish him to the wrath of heaven, even if it was only linked by blood. Instead he dragged Python down with him. Down to hell strangely enough Rens soul was tugged along as well. The blast of magic had tied their souls together into the tangled strings of fate.

In hell, there was a section made especially for him. A fake world to live in that appeared just like Earth. Some lesser demons could wander in and out of the illusion. But it was made so Python could never get out and cause the destruction like he had done before.

Death took pity on the soul of Ren. And since the beginning had performed resurrection of the deceased before on Xerial and Xisuma which successfully made them the first Spirit Reapers of existence, he decided to try his hand at it. But instead of a Spirit Reaper being created, Ren gained features linked to Earth which would only be from the magic blast of Python as well.  
He gained wolf like features and they soon learned that the more negative Pythons emotions became, the more wolf like Ren would appear.

With that Ren also gained the ability to leave off to the real earth. But he stayed with Python as much as possible, leaving only when needed or to relay information back to Python on the occurrences of Earth.

“You are Ren right?” Mumbo asked.

“Yes I am! And yes it is very strange to refer to my own self and past in the third person.” the werewolf replied.

Tango and Mumbo shared a glance, “So what are you doing up on Earth now?” Tango asked.

“Oh well that's simple! Python could feel a shift and much greater exhauste than usual from Ethos magic and sent me to investigate.”

“How did he feel Ethos magic?”.

“Being the first super magical human, he can feel the magic wandering the Earth like a sometimes toggleable sixth sense. But spoiler alert, they are also blood brothers. Etho had half of Death’s blood as well, but that time around it was injected in small amounts and had less disastrous side effects. Although he was very very heavily montitured.”. Ren explained.

“Oh, I think I just made you spoil the end of the story.” Tango replied sheepishly.

“Sorta kinda, there is only a bit left and since that dramatic reveal flopped all just recount the rest like bullet points. Death isn’t having no more blood children because they are overpowered, but other demons sometimes do and they are called warlocks. Also, if anyone ever mentions someone called ‘Evil Xisuma’ it was a nickname given by Death to Xerial because Xerial failed to see the violent tendencies rising up in Python despite being closer to him. Xerial has had enough centuries to get over the nickname, but prefers his actual name still.” Ren explained finishing out the story.

“You guys finished then?” Etho asked, plopping down a bag of herbs.

“Yup!” Ren replied, spinning around to face the warlock.

“I’m ready for the magic show!”.

Tango and Mumbo exchanged another glance at each other. Mutual _what the hell is going on_ being communicated before joining the others to sit down around the summoning circle like kindergarteners at storytime.

Etho waltzed over to his summoning circle, placing down specific runes carved into stone into the pentagram pattern before standing in the middle of it. Salts and herbs outlined the pentagram and various objects were placed next to the runes on the floor. It definitely looked magicy in Tango's opinion.

“Remember, no crossing the big circle. Nobody is gonna be happy if you accidentally faceplant into hell.”.

“Noted.” Tango replied for the group. None of them planned on taking that sort of field trip.

Etho began to chant in an ancient otherworldly language that none of them could mimic if they wanted to. Some syllables seemed to sting the ears and the guttural strange noises of demonic speech made their otherwise human throats ache in sympathy. There was a flash of red light, stamping the ceiling with the pattern of the summoning circle and a voice spoke from beyond.

“Oh look he actually has friends!” accompanied with laughter. The face of a fallen angel appeared hovering in the air face poking out of what could only be some invisible rip down to hell, grinning like a maniac. You wouldn’t have guessed this angel had fallen with the goofy expression he wore.

“Knock, knock! Am I allowed in?” the demon grinned.

“Yes you are Wilbur.” Etho replied, rolling his eyes.

“Oh profession titles now are we? I still wish I could see the look on Williams face when he learned I stole his name so it can rest in hell. Obnoxious prick of an angel he was.”.

“Says the person kicked out of heaven.”.

Wilbur rolled his eyes as well, “Oh come on now. If you saw how boring it was there you would leave too.”.

“I’ll just have to take your word for it. No sons of Satan allowed in heaven. I was wondering. Was it you who created the creepesters?” Etho asked quizzically.

“Creepsters! How rude. They are but my little citizens! How did you even figure that out?” Wilbur replied, marching out so his entire body was revealed in the rip instead of just his head. He looked confusingly human.

“Life and death meddling.” Wilbur shrugged. “I helped create him.”.

Doc looked at the demon who apparently once controlled him and gave a confused wave.

“Oh! One of them now. Sort of? Etho what did you do?”.

“My guess is you essentially took a human blueprint, gave them not free will to think instead of making a new brain. The brain is still human and my life and death meddling figured that out.”.

“You sneaky you. This is why Death isn’t allowed any more children. They are too smart.” Wilbur huffed.

“And I’m guessing you had some help with it?”

“Of course I had some help! Mr. Blades himself joined in on the little project. Why don’t you say hello.”. Wilbur smiled, disappearing from the tear back into hell.

“My brain doesn’t stop hurting. Too much information” Tango whispered.

“This still hurts my brain, and I’ve seen him do things like this a hundred times.” Bdubs grumbled in reply.

A quiet no could be heard from somewhere deep behind the rift.. Followed by a bit of arguing, then a bit of dragging. Then peeking Wilbur was back.

“Hello Etho’s friends! Meet Mr. Blade himself!”. The second demon’s face appeared, being dragged in by Wilbur. This one was much more terrifying. His head was one of a giant wild boar with the eyes of one that went mad and apparently killed the king while he was at it based on the crown on his head. His clothing was regal in appearance, but it didn’t stop his eyes from spinning with murderous intent.``.

“Yes so this lovely gentleman helped to model my citizens from when he helped create some humans up in heaven. Loser got kicked out of heaven's trusted circle.” Wilbur laughed.

“It was too bright there anyways.” Blade said uninterested. “Make a few civilizations believe in ritual blood sacrifice and apparently God doesn’t want you at his lunch table anymore. Also call me Techno, not his stupid nickname”.

Tango glanced nervously at Mumbo trying to communicate through frantic eyebrow raises. Mumbo was too busy being dumbfounded at the pig headed demon in front of him.

“Classic Techno.” Wilbur grinned. “It was my idea, Philza helped by saying just changing up humans would be the easiest method and then Techno here did the changes. We are a pretty effective team I think.”.

Tango blinked, “Oh, Phil? I’ve met him before! He helped me out of a very sticky situation and is the reason my eyes are all funky and red. Also why my hair is so funky and flashy.”.

Etho grinned from behind his mask, “I’m glad you met Phil, he is the nicest of these three.”.

“Can’t argue with facts.” Techno added in.

“That’s all I saw going to ask you about. Just wanted to confirm or deny the hunch.” Etho concluded.

Techno stared at Wilbur, “That was it? You took me here so I could say Phil is cool?”.

“Yeah! And you can wave to people, see?” Wilbur responded. Techno shook his head and gave a half hearted wave.

“Uh, well thanks for saying hello!” Wilbur said as the other demon left the little rip into hell. “Don’t try and turn more of my citizens into humans, that doesn’t seem like a good time for them. And a waste of magic.”.

“Will do.” Etho replied before turning to the people behind him, “Say bye!”.

“Bye!” they said in chorus, making Wilbur laugh like a maniac as Etho closed down the portal.

“Well that was fun.” the masked man grinned.

“I now understand why Bdubs decided not to leave the mansion anymore.” Mumbo sympathized.

“Ya see!” Bdubs yelled in reply. “This world is crazy and all these big fancy people are gonna give you a headache!”.

“But it was fun?” Etho asked innocently.

“But it was fun.” Tango and Mumbo replied getting a smile out of everyone, even Bdubs although it was accompanied with a headshake.

⬽⌖⤘

“I’m gonna go on a quick walk guys!” Joe called out, opening the backdoor facing the woods.

“Take some supply with you just in case, stay safe Joe!” he heard Wels call from the kitchen.

“Got it!” he replied, patting the small bag on his hip before heading out into the forest.

It was a great way to clear his mind and reconnect back with the beauty of nature. When they had come back from hunting, Biffa had looked wrecked and Suma was nowhere to be found and refused to open up to them about what happened instead holding it all despite how much they wanted to help. Joe hoped that their usually steady leader had opened up to Wels at least a bit. Those two had been friends for the longest, so it would make sense.

He cherished the simplicity of birds soaring across the treetops and squabbling for the highest branch as squirrels snatched nuts up for themselves. The way the flowers leaned and turned to try and find the perfect sunny patch. How the ivy dutifully crawled up ever growing trees to reach the precious sunlight.

Eventually he reached the small garden bed. He set it out in the middle of the woods so he didn’t feel the same responsibility for it as he would for an actual garden. He admired the bright eyes of wildflowers growing as tall as they could. He basked in the serenity of it all. Until a man fell from the tree.

Joe yelped and jumped into position as the blur of coat and human flopped onto the forest floor, nearly crushing his flowers.

Zedaph bit back the bitter drying blood on his lips, consequence of smacking his face into a tree only moments earlier. The places his skin hit the ground directly burned cold against the newly exposed fresh air. You would think being dead would rid the afterlife of such uncomfortable sensations.

“Ouch, but at least its not a big ouch.” Zedaph groans getting up onto his feet and tentatively brushing his fingers around the scrapped area.

The poets eyes were blown wide, he had a small dagger in front of himself in a defensive position. “Who are you?” he asked in shock at the man who had just fallen onto the path in front of him.

“No hello? Straight to the complicated question? Well, I’m Zedaph and what one would call elf..-ish. A series of unfortunate events lead to my death and resurrection as a Spirit Reaper.” Zedaph explained casually dusting off his pants and unphased at the dagger pointed at his chest.

Shock and curiosity nearly replaced all of the fear in Joes eyes for a split second, “They’re real.” he whispered shocked.

Zedaph pinched his own arm, “Yup, pretty sure at least!” he smiled lighthearted.

Joe drew back in his mind where it wandered with questions at the implications of the existence of Spirit Reapers. What a scientific discovery. What could they do? What were they supposed to do? How many are there? Was it really a spirit reaper that stared him down the other day? Questions ran rampant in his mind, but he set them aside to get back to business.

“What do you want from me?” Joe ask the other, voice tinged with malice as he gestured with the dagger.

“Ah yes, well you see. You folks have caused far too much destruction. Us reapers have been sent by Death, good guy, to stop the destruction.”.

Joe cocked his head, confused at the statement. Death was the force of destruction in the world. Wouldn’t they be helping Death in their crusade, even if they didn’t kill as much as those they slaughtered. “Why would I want that?” Joe accused.

“Death helps brings balance to the world. But you guys are tipping the scales too far into the destructive side.” Zedaph explained.

“How? We are killing monsters and stopping them from running on murder sprees.”

Zedaph felt his heart sink a bit at the words, but didn’t allow it to show. If Xisuma had been able to reach their hearts, they must have been stone cold hearts before. “Those are people you are killing. Lives of the innocent taken away, some who haven’t hurt a soul in their lives.”.

Joe's eyes narrowed at the words, “Don’t try and fool me.” he spat out feeling the strain of repressed emotion in his throat.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes. My own father killed my family as soon as he turned vampiric.”

Joe could feel his throat burn with the emotion he tried to keep down, but tears threatened to free themselves despite his efforts. “He killed them all. He would have gotten me if I didn’t stop him.”.

By now he was almost yelling the words, tears pricking the corners of his eyes with pent up emotion. Haunting memories resurfacing to show their ugly faces flashing through his head. The time piercing screams of his mother as she had the love of his life take her life away. The covered the ground, deep swirling maroon ingraining themselves into the wood. The fear in his older brother's eyes as he told Joe to run, before facing their father. He could see the pin prick black pupils of his father that loomed over Joe. The blood of his brother and mother dripping down onto him. All traces of humanity wiped from the vampire's features. He could still hear the gurgle of blood in his father's throat when Joe streaked the man through the heart. He could still feel the blood that covered his hands. The blood he tried so many times to cover over with the blood of others. Yet that blood never faded away.

Zedaph looked at him, face painted with true sympathy, “I’m sorry, for as much as those small words could mean. Nobody deserves to go through that or to bear that burden. What made your father like that wasn’t the vampirism, it was a disease.”.

Joe shot him daggers through the tears, “What?”.

Zedaph continued, “There was a pandemic, an outbreak that only harmed vampires. It removes their humanity which would otherwise be induced and makes them nothing more than shells. It was a terrible fate, it has been contained once more but many lives were taken during the outbreak.”.

Joe felt realization drop down on him like a thousand pounds, “It could have been prevented?”.

“Yes, sadly your father was a victim to that horrible disease.” Then Zedaph started to get more desperate.

“I beg you, stop your reign of terror so others don’t have to face the same loss as you have. We have been ordered to stop your group's killings in whatever way possible, but we all prefer to keep you alive. You are good people misguided by terrible events. I beg you, in memory of your father and the humanity he had, honour the lives of all.” Zedaph pleaded.

The words broke the poor poet. Joe's composure shattered and sobes walked through his chest. In perhaps is the worst battle move possible, he dropped the dagger. All sight of the world in front of him lost. “I’m so sorry Dad.” He whispered.

“I’m so sorry I was never the man you wanted me to be.” Images of the blood on his hands ran through his mind again.

“I just want to be free from the hurt.” He whispered to himself again, shamefully hugging his arm.

“It hurts so bad.”.

Zedaph swallowed down his own sympathetic tears and walked towards the other man, offering a hand. “I can take you to your friends. Would that help?” he spoke gently.

Joe nodded trying to gather the broke shell of his composure, he accepted the hand without a second thought. The gesture was simple, kind, human. It was human.

“It should only take a second.” Zedaph spoke softly. There was a gentle whirling of light and a light dizziness and suddenly they were behind a tree just outside the stables. Joe slumped against the tree, trying to pull himself up enough to look the other in the eyes.

He looked into the reapers eyes, purple and swirling with magic, sympathy and kindness. Joe heard his own voice crack, “Thank you.”.

Zedaph smiled, “Anytime.” then the reaper disappeared into thin air.

The poet felt a chill in the air at the sudden disappearance and pent up emotion threatening to boil over like a pressure cooker on his heart. He stepped out of the shadows to the stables, wiping the fresh tears from his cheek.

False turned around at the sound of footsteps, “Hey Joe!” she called out before turning to see the state of the man disheveled and wiping away tears. She instantly felt sympathy rise up.

“Oh Joe, come here.”. She set down the horse's brush and walked over to the gate, wrapping up her friend in a hug. Joe's composure broke down once more at the embrace. It was compassionate, warm and filled with friendship. He felt tears drip onto her shoulder as he hugged her back.

“Let’s go inside, get you a blanket and a place to sit down.” she spoke softly.

“Thank you Falsie.” he got out between gulps as the two headed into the small wooden home.

⬽⌖⤘

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaa Didn't take as much time as my other story at least! Badly proof read by me haha


	3. It's Not a Burden

The wooden bullseye stood still, just as all inanimate objects did. It stayed emotionless while chalked full of nooks and scars from various batterings it took. A bullseye wasn’t anything like a real target, a real target that could move. A real target that showed emotion, it showed anger, strength, fear. Biffa bent his arm up behind his head, the throwing knife angled just behind him. He tried to forget the worst of those emotions, the hopelessness, the acceptance that bled out through their eyes. He focused once more on the wooden target. He had to remove such emotions, be able to throw the knife without a blink of the eye. With a sturdy swing, he shot the knife forward so it quivered in the target. He had to remember it was for the greater good.

⬽⌖⤘

“So, the only reason vampires have killed so many people are from a disease.”. Falses voice was flat. The comfort she was showing at first lost under layers of her own swirling thoughts.

“Yup.” Joe was melting in the pot of his own swirling emotions as well. All the lives they had taken, were they innocent after all? The thought made him sick to his stomach, it made his gut wrench and threaten to spill out all over him.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Joe whispered. “I just wanted to help others so they didn’t have to suffer as I did. But I might be causing that suffering.”. He could see the blood on his hands again, but now the layers of crimson and maroon only grew thicker consuming him.

“False, I can’t do this.” he whispered once more. Despite how the sentence was addressed, it was more to himself than the equally shocked person besides him.

Falses breath was just as shaky as her words, “I,” she started, “I think I need to take a breath outside.”. She quickly paced back out to the horses and back under the cerulean sky.

She breathed in the air, letting the cooling breeze bring her racing nerves back to Earth. She picked back up the horse's brush and got to work. The repetitive motion helped soothe her racing thoughts out of explosive territory. The brush gliding down the silky mane, back and forth. Back and forth.

After a fair bit of grooming, False set down the brush ready as she could be to confront reality. The reality that perhaps she was the very evil she wished to destroy. Damn, that called for a nap.

She wandered back into the house to find Joe had left the living area, likely coming to the same conclusion that sleep would help heal wounds of the mind. Or at least give a break from them.

She clammered her way up the stairs and threw herself onto her bed. Tuffs of hay flew into the air when she hit the pillow perhaps a bit too hard. She lay there, staring at the ceiling and imagining a different perfect world until she fell asleep.

⬽⌖⤘

False bit down on her lip again, the familiar taste of blood making its way to her tongue. She starts the punching bag down again through raised fists, it’s nearly immovable weight looming foreboding in front of her. She adjusted her left foot in the back, sliding her stance into something more stable. With a determined huff she sprung into action again advancing forward in gliding motions before twisting into a side kick. The familiar brunt of impact rang through her leg as she slid back into the main defensive positions to unleash a fury of different punches. Each one aimed at an invisible target in her mind. With a side kick with the other leg, she jumped backwards maintaining defensive arms up and a wide stable stance. Just like the countless times over, she had to throw her body weight around before getting a perfect balance after the jump. She didn’t nail the landing, not ever punch hit that invisible target, the kicks could be stronger and faster. So she stared down the punching bag again, ready to take it on again and again.

Draining hours of training finally demanded for her to rest for the day and rid herself of the droplets of sweat that seemed to always run on the most uncomfortable positions. She unwrapped the cloth stripes protecting her hand she used during training and stowed it away wiping sweat waterfalling from her brow. Water sounded really good right about now.

“Hey False!” sang a happy young voice.

“Hello True!” she smiled back through tired eyes, “I need to get out of these filthy clothes, okay?” she added on, recognized the brewing of endless repetitive stories brewing behind those eyes.

“Okay.” the younger one responded, that endless excitement proving to be much more deflatable than it appeared.

 _It’s fine, I’m going to hear the story at least ten more times anyways_ False thought to herself before taking a cup and getting water from the pitcher. The cool liquid proved more delicious than candy on dry tired lips.

“True is doing amazing isn’t she?” False caught her mother's soft conversation to her father.

“She has so much potential. She will go so much farther than False.” she heard her father respond. She bite back the sting of those words.

It was no surprise really, but that didn’t stop the words from hurting. Despite being the older of the two sisters, True had shown remarkable talent from before she could even walk on two feet. She had amazing limb control for a baby and that impressive streak never seemed to let down. Even with her own four year head start, she could feel True catching up to her ankles no matter how fast she ran.

Her sister's smile was still young and pure, but she couldn’t help but resent how someone so young made all her efforts become hidden in it’s shadow.

Everything could change in one night. In one night she could have her own world fall apart. In one night her path in life seems to become carved in stone. In one night she could learn to carry enough regret to last a lifetime.

The town was attacked by cultists. People twisted into the belief that wetting the ground with blood gave them honour.

Her world shifted third person, she could see their billowing red stained robes and evil smiles printed on their faces. She could see the blood run down the streets, mixing with the gravel and creating mud. She could see her own little sister fall to the ground. The blood that trickled down the edge of her mouth as her head collapsed onto the floor. But what was worst was the eyes. Eyes once filled with so much light, life, potential and see them fade away into deep dark shells. The very soul leaving the body. Eyes that would appear every time False closer her eyes.

And suddenly she was training again. Training now not just for herself or for beating the competition. This time training in honor of those who died. In solidarity of neighbors who lost their lives. She trained to be the best not only for herself but for each of the dead’s memory to live on.

On those dirty, sweaty castle grounds she became one of the best. The fastest improved rookie anyone could remember. Each swing she took at the punching bag, she could feel eyes ogle at her. Gazes filled with disbelief, admiration and jealousy.

“False!” one of the ogling eyes called out. Not just any ogling eye though. The pair belongs to her higher up, even if it was by a small rank. False halted her training and swung around to attention at the sound of her name being barked.

“Yes sir!”.

“Training is over for today. It’s time to get over to the dining hall.” he laughed, not using anywhere near the formality False was. She looked around to see the dim lit training grounds nearly clear of people. Everyone is cooling down and heading off.

“Oh, I’ll get going as well.” she replied, relaxing her posture.

“No problem, you seemed quite a bit lost in thought there.” he laughed.

Officer Daryl was his name. He was the odd one out of every group. Hyper, lacked formality and a bit on the mental side. But False listened nonetheless. So as she headed back into the castle walls, the location shifted again.

Officer Daryl was talking with her again. The night was dark and cool. Not to mention filled with the sound of crickets. They sat in the long abandoned training grounds, staring up at the glowing moon.

“I’ve always respected what you strive and work for.” Daryl said while staring off into the moon. “You work so hard and progress so fast. I can’t imagine just how immensely proud everyone in the village would be of you.”.

False laughed nervously. The words hit home. How she wanted to be the best for them. To work and show everyone that she could be amazing and help. She wanted them all to be proud of her and to say those words she could never hear again. Daryl had said it for them. And even if she didn’t want it to, those words pulled at her heart. That maybe the man next to her wasn’t the maniac every proclaimed him to be.

She could find herself relating to him these things that other people criticized. How he was perceived as a bit less than the rest of the low commanding officers. His loose tongue that let words slip out that definitely shouldn’t have. Ones that bit him in the back laters. And through their time spent together, she felt that maybe there was more to him than what everyone else saw.

“Thank you.” she spoke softly, “I hope they are.”.

“I know you’re only still a teenager.” Daryl continued. “But you show more maturity and dedication than most adults in this world. That is something to respect.” He laughed. “Especially compared to me. An officer sneaking out past curfew. At least as a trainee you can get away with it a bit better.”.

False laughed a bit at that. “They have a lot more stacked up to throw you out of that position besides ignorance of curfew.”.

He smiled at that. “Well still. I don’t want you telling me ok? Sneaking out here will be a little secret for us, deal?” he asked.

With little hesitation False agreed. “Deal.”. She was breaking the rules aways, not using throwing herself under the bus along with him.

The dream slowly shifted into a slideshow format, showing her a conglomeration of experiences of her past but a few stood more vibrant among the rest.

“I know I have a bad rep around here.” Daryll laughed “I’ve always been mental it’s a shock I’ve even made it this far really.”.

False smiled, “Yeah, but I suppose we are all a bit mental sometimes.”.

“You know what I mean.”.

She could see the events now in a collage of terrors. Him staring wide eyes and maniac sharpening the knives claiming it had been too long since he had been able to take a life. The eyes of those around them widening in confusion and fear. Her own eyes staying downcast as she heard those words join the others he said that bounced around in her head. The self inflicted harm that he couldn’t quite hide, at times didn’t quite care to. HIm stabbing at the trees only to turn around and say he was pretending they were human. The way his pupils were dialed in and tightened with a wrench.

No, it wasn’t right. He needed more help than she could give. But try and give, she did.

“But you stick with me, you understand me.”. The words burned into her mind leaving smoldering black imprints. What the hell was she going to do if she were to abandon him.

He could see his hand creeping up her leg as she jumped and tried to shuffle away. “What the hell!” she could hear herself yell. His frown was blurred.

“Sorry, but it helps just a bit of a distraction. I’m fucking insane but this helps.” it was an excuse. She knew that, she knows that why can’t she accept that?

Her mind whirled a million miles an hours before her spirit soared away. And slowly her body suit, jumping away.

“No! And I’m over a decade younger than you too for goodness sakes!” she yelled.

He crossed the distance in a fast, hands on her again.

“Now you wouldn’t want anyone to hear would you?” she could smell the alcohol on his breath, fear ran through her heart like a jalavin. Looking back from afar she was glad that self preservation took control instead of the parts of her that said what was going on and what was right. The parts that said she needed to stay and help him like nobody else could or at least cared enough to.

Like hell she didn’t want to be heard. She didn’t want that shame of others eyes declaring her so called as hopeless as the rest or the others eyes that wondered why she would let herself in that situation in the first place if she didn’t have plans to help. Under some force of nature she didn’t quite know, she still had enough grip on her mind to run. Run away, away, away.

The next morning, there was a bloody handprint on the training walls. She felt sick repeating over and over to herself she did not own anything to him. But by god did it feel that way. It was as if the maroon mark had been placed on her own skin just like the burning sickness she felt on her legs where he infected her with his touch.

Although he never made direct pleas for her to come back. He tried to. Hints, compliments, guilt trips. It made every living moment trying to train around there sickening.

The last thing she saw was her leaving the training. Confident enough in her own skills to go and too sick of the place to stay. But his face jumped out like a jack in a box. Screaming and laughing her name. Bulging eyes with those pinprick pupils. A devious smile curled in a way that was completely overbearing.

She jolted up covered in sweat. Heart pounding in her throat at a million miles an hour and gaining.

_**Three grooming red flags. I want to take your hopefully pleasant fic reading experience and turn it into a PSA on red flags for grooming. Internet safety is important and sadly there are giant creeps. While not everyone who hands out compliments is a groomer (duh) you should always watch out for red flags and pay attention to your gut feeling!!  
1\. Targeting specific kids for special attention, activities or gifts. Some offenders show preference for a particular “type”. Giving compliments in this area can help create a level of trust. _

_2\. Slowly isolating a kid from family members and friends: physically and emotionally. This could include finding reasons for isolation, one on one interactions or undermining relationships with parents and friends to show that “no one understands you like I do”._

_3\. Gradually crossing physical boundaries. Hugs that last too long, making kids sit on their lap, “accidental” touches. These are all cause for concern._

_3(but online) Asking for pictures, sometimes in an “innocent” manner such as a selfie. These could gradually add up to more and more revealing pictures._

_4\. Encouraging kids to keep secrets from family and sometimes friends. The shame and fear associated with child sexual abuse makes it wasy for offenders to enforce secrecy in this area as well, keeping abuse “just between us”._

_Please make sure to stay safe physically and mentally. If you are in a situation you need help, don’t be afraid to reach out to friends, family or resources. Reaching out takes extraordinary amounts of bravery, but it is important to do. Don’t give up reaching out for help if your first pleas are ignored either. Back to reading!_

These memories had been shoved away for a reason. Swept so far under the rug it could be a new Narnia tale. The idea provided her at least a small bit of comfort as she wrapped her arms around herself.

_The Dunce, the Maniac and the Rug. Somehow less appealing to readers._

She sat there, shivering under ong repressed memories that never failed to jump back out to get her. She had never told a soul. Not one soul knows the details of her training. She feared their words, their mockery. Or perhaps even worse their disappointment.

“Hello?” asked an unfamiliar voice ghostly and faint in the dim moonlight. Instantly, her head snapped up and she threw the closest thing at hand at the voice. Those years of training showed their worth, not allowing even a single harrowing moment to allow weakness to her physical. The aforementioned closest object which happened to be a hairbrush, hit the wall with a hearty smack.

She stared at the spot puzzled. Where was the person? How did she miss? She was off the bed in a fighting stance since when? Then, suddenly a glowing blue face materialized out of the air.

“Hello there!” the face smiling, hand materializing as well to give a wave.

She yelped, eyes desperately searching for another projectile. Damn minimalism set up had left her only a bedside table to toss, her fists to give a good fight or perhaps a conversation.

“Who are you?” she hissed at the strange man opting for the conversation. She assumed it would be hard to punch the un-hairbrush smackable. Much too many strange things were going on. Couldn’t even have a mental breakdown without mysteries of the world revealing themselves.

“My name is Scar!” he smiled. “And I’m also a spirit reaper, you’re probably tired of hearing about it by now.”.

She let out a nervous laugh to ease the tension. Dude didn’t look like he possessed the capabilities to hurt a fly.

“Glad I had a harrowing talk and time otherwise I would be finding any possible way to remove your head.” she responded. Even if he didn’t seem like he could hurt a fly, it was very much possible they were considered lower than flies by the supernatural. Punch with words and hope the opponent did not have tangible weapons.

“Oh! The others told me to say I come in peace!” the peppy reaper added on.

Instantaneously, Falses mind was back on hyperdrive. Was this just a distraction? What was happening to the others? Why didn’t she remember to hide a weapon under her pillow as soon as they arrived back at the house?

Scar immediately noticed his mistake when she eyes flashed back into ones that could most definitely kill a man. “They also told me not to tell you there are others. But they are off doing different things, it was just by turn to keep watch.”.

False backed towards the doorway. “And why should I listen to you?”.

“Because it’s my job to help you. I want to help all of you.” he added softly.

Stupid emotions were buzzing much too loudly in Falses head. Normally such attempts at softening her defense would be useless. Maybe it was because she just woke up from a nightmare that she had fallen asleep to escape a nightmare. Maybe it was just how trustable he seemed. Or maybe the spirit reapers were filling her up with mind altering drugs. At this point she could believe any and all of those theories.

“I can see the weight those memories pull down on you. And if you are going to run away, promise me you won’t continue to bear that weigh on your own. No matter those thoughts are telling you, it not going to hurt them, you or anybody to speak about it.”

False could feel her own throat tighten and jaw slack. With all her training she could break someones jaw in a single punch, kick someone so hard they see stars and wonder if they’re in space and even incapacitate a person one handed. What her training had no prepared her for was an emotional attack of any level.

“What the hell do you want from us?” she felt the yell tear itself from her throat confused and anguished. Her heard a tone in her voice she hadn’t dare let show in so many years. Under the brash anger facade was something much more vumerable, fear.

Those eyes seemed to be able to read her like a book as his expression softened. “We want you guys to feel compassion for the good of everyone.”. He gave her a tired, knowing smile. A smile that could wash away the worries of even a beggar staring up at it. “I hope you can find room in your heart for everyone and I promise your friends have room in their hearts for you.”. And he vanished. Not a trace or the feeling of lingering eyes left behind.

⬽⌖⤘

“Do you think it worked?” Zedaph whispered to the fellow reaper next to him. They peered at the house at the edge of the forest, able to see it but unseen by all within it. “Scar seemed like the best man for the job.”

“I think so.” Xisuma replied. “Maybe there is still hope.”. His invisible disgust faltered for only a moment as he spoke those words, allowing a few sparkles of purple to slip into visible range.

The only reason a disguise would slip was if a reaper was extremely emotionally impacted by something. Zedaph could only hope it was a good impact. One of joy and not one of concealed hopelessness.

Xisuma had always been alone more or less. Not lack of friends, but lack of friends he got close to. After watching his own brother, Xerial, become so destroyed by a close friend nearly dying he feared the idea of such closeness. To be so connected with someone that them falling could bring you so far down.

Xisuma became the example of what a reaper should be. He completed Death’s orders swiftly and to perfection leaving room for minimal mercy. Yet the mercy was almost always robotic, as if he ran through an algorithm weighing the good and bad sides of a person to decide how much mercy should be rationed out. But things were different this time around.

No matter how hard Xisuma tried to hide it, he had a soft spot for the members of The Terror. Under no other circumstances would the ancient reaper have let such a menace continue for so long. Weighing their good and bad, Zedaph felt their bad actions far outweighed their good, but Xisuma could see something deeper. Something that Zedaph couldn’t quite grasp but trusted was there. He hoped that those souls could be saved from their terrible path. If not for their own benefit, for his friends’. He had watched the purple hazed man transform so very slowly while watching the group. X slowly began to show a more vulnerable side of himself to his closest companions which Zedaph was happy to be a part of. He let down his walls enough to show that inside was a heart pumping blood and not in fact wires that jolted him around. No other reapers outside of the group could even fathom that the man was much more than an android of Death’s bidding. But Zedaph could see that Xisuma always cared for all, even if he never said the words. He always watched out for others safety. Zedaph only wished to do the same for his friend or at least help save the seemly only person who could.

⬽⌖⤘

“I don’t want to believe that some people are inherently evil. But it is an undeniable truth that people commit evil acts.” The statement hung in the air like a fruit filled with nutrition yet too sour for either Biffa or Wels to swallow.

“The question is, at what point can someone not be forgiven.”. The question hung in the air, unanswerable between the two.“One thing is for sure, those who are traumatized by someone are under no obligation to forgive or reconnect with those who traumatized them. I can make that point at least”.

“I agree with that. But who is the monster in this situation? If we are the monster what the hell do we do?”.

“If we are the monster behind this all, we should submit ourselves to the reapers. Let fate pick our path to heal the holes we left behind I suppose.”

“I thought we were helping people. But we are helping people right? Nobody fears the supernatural as much as before. We are helping people sleep easier at night. Saving lives that could have been taken.”.

“But we are achieving that by taking away the lives of others.”.

“But do they really measure up equal?”. Biffa snapped. Wels inhaled sharply at the statement. The words were thrown like daggers. That is how they were treating the supernatural, these humanoids. Like they were worth less than other human life. The reality was something you couldn’t swallow. And neither wanted to break it down and release that awful favour.

“We’re helping.” Biffa mumbled quietly to himself, gradually getting louder and louder. “We’re helping, we’re helping. We’re helping. Hell! I don’t know if I can live with myself if that's not true.”.

Wels sat there quietly, taking in the words before responding.

“I agree, if all that’s said it true I’ve done undeniably terrible things. Terrible things that have hurt people and those close to them. But you can’t brush dust into a hole of the heart and call it healed. I wouldn’t want anyone to pretend what I did wasn’t monstrous.”

“But what if it isn’t monstrous to kill monsters.”

“Do you really still think they are monsters?”

“I have to don’t I? I’m nothing but a fool throwing darts to decide our fate at this point. If we accept the wrongdoings and head over to that place Suma mentioned who knows what will happen to us. What will happen if we continue and what will happen to the faith of the people? I don’t want to march off us to our death and I’m afraid that might just be what I’ve signed us all up for.”.

“But if they are monsters I’m just as much of a monster as well to cause all this suffering. You would think seeing so many living things at their lowest point seconds before death the hurt would lessen, but it doesn’t. The hurt and empathy I feel for each life is just as strong as when I watched that first life die out. But I never stopped, only learned how to handle it.”. Then he barked a strangled laugh. Laughter that came from a place of deep hurt.

“If they are monsters, I’m competing to be one of the worst devils in hell.” Biffa spat.

They stood there in the silence, the pain of truth marinating in open wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope adding in the mid story PSA wasn’t too weird! I think it’s an important topic that can sometimes be overlooked. Not all the chapters are going to have super important messages in them, (lmao probably none after this but who knows) but I wanted to add one here. Also sorry that the chapter flowed about as well as boulder frosting. I don’t know what that analogy is. Brain didn’t work for this chapter at this point time to yeet it out so I can mush all my different jots for the other chapter into a cohesive blob. Stay safe!


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